On The Edge
by StarWalker42
Summary: Leia's in a bad place after Yavin, and it's up to Han to get her out.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Leia's in a bad place after Yavin, and Han's the one who helps her out. Two shot. Post-ANH, slightly AU-ish, **potential trigger warning.**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Wars or Patent Pending's amazing lyrics. No copyright infringement intended!

**A/N**: Based around a head cannon I've had for a while surrounding Leia after Alderaan that I finally decided to write down. Feedback is very appreciated- hope you enjoy reading!

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><p><span><strong><em>On The Edge<em>**

_She stares down at the world below  
>Fools herself to thinking she should just let go, I know<br>I wish she knew she wasn't so alone_

_-Patent Pending, One Less Heart To Break_

Against the darkness of the night sky, pinnacles of light rose from the ground below as if trying to touch the stars. They'd never each them, obviously, but who needed buildings to reach the sky if you could get there in a ship anyway? Vehicles never flew this high, up where the winds were strong and hostile. They milled further down, well below the fully reach of the skyscrapers, forming patterns of intertwining light that moved and danced beyond the edge of the roof.

It was strange, she thought, how small the city looked from up here. So insignificant.

As if it wouldn't care if someone fell through it and hit the invisible ground below.

Leia had come to the conclusion that it wouldn't. She'd had that conclusion all week, had thought about it all week, and even though she knew what she had to do and had the ability to do it…

Putting it off hadn't helped. But she'd wanted to know, wanted to make sure. She'd thought she was certain, this time around. This would be when she'd do it, no going back, no question about it. Obviously telling herself that everyday hadn't made it any easier.

This bit was meant to be simple. It was just one step, after all. A tiny decision and then would be over. One second was all it took. One second.

She'd been standing there, gently buffered by the wind, for a good ten minutes, and hadn't moved any closer than half a foot from the edge.

Because now, leaning over the parapet and watching the airspeeders create trails of light against the darkness below, was when the doubts returned. The conflicting thoughts began rising up again, replacing the numbness she'd felt for the past few days. _That should be relieving_, Leia thought detachedly, _so why isn't it?_

She knew the response, of course; because she was ready _now_, and however much the sadness went away in this moment, it would always come back. Always.

There was only one way out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

_I'm so proud of you, Leia…it's a dangerous mission, but I know you can…you prefer another target? A military target?... when we heard about Alderaan we feared the worst… hey, Leia, what's wrong? It's not _my _fault you're so shut off all the time, your Highness!..._

And with that, all of it returned- all the grief, the anger, the guilt. It was reassuring, having it back. And in that moment, she was ready.

Passively, her thoughts drifted to falling. She'd thought it might be freeing, almost, just letting herself drop. Sort of like flying. That was it- she'd be flying through the skylanes. Some part of her liked the idea- she felt a small smile on her lips as she leaned out over the space below.

Someone grabbed her from behind.

One arm across her waist, the other across her chest, holding her arms against her body, the person pulled her back from the edge with strength that surprised her. Heavy breaths sounded in her ears, accompanied by her own ragged breathing as she tried to escape. The arms were too strong; they formed an immovable cage around her.

"Let go." She tugged against the stranger's grip, not currently caring who it was or why they were here, merely needing to reach the edge while she was still ready.

The arms just tightened. "No."

The voice stirred something inside her when she recognized it; something that for reasons she couldn't explain made her relax a little into his arms.

Han.

"Look, I-"

He wasn't listening. As if she wasn't even resisting, he pulled her further back, to the middle of the rooftop, next to the air conditioning units. "Sit down." He said gruffly.

She reluctantly did so, albeit with difficulty, as Han never let go of her. Once she was seated, he grabbed her wrists instead of wrapping his arms around her, and she was forced to meet his eyes. His hair was mussed by the wind, like his shirt, and in the darkness she could only just make out his features. But the deadly seriousness in the eyes currently fixed on hers was impossible to miss.

It made him look older. Different. It almost made Leia do a double take.

"Tell me why." It wasn't a question.

She didn't know how to answer, all the same. "I don't want to explain," she said finally. "I just have to."

"No," he shook his head, the effort of restraining his temper showing on his face. "No, you don't."

Leia gritted her teeth and made to stand up. She got maybe two seconds in before Han shoved her against the metal casing behind, the harsh crash making her wince.

"_No_." He dragged her down again and this time she let him without pulling back. "Sit here and talk to me."

"What exactly do you want me to say?"

"I want you to talk to me."

Leia looked down at his hands, still tightly clenched around her wrists. Han noticed.

"If you want me to let go, you have to promise me you won't run off," he told her. "Promise?"

She glanced back at the edge. The certainty had faded away again, now a dull ache in the back of her mind. And she couldn't exactly do it while he was here, watching her, anyway. No, she wouldn't do that to him.

"I promise."

"Okay." Cautiously, Han released her arms. She remained where she was, and realised when he didn't move away that they were close, maybe two feet apart. If the wind died for a second, she'd be able to feel his breath on her face. "Now talk."

"I don't think-"

"Try."

She looked away again and closed her eyes. Trying to sum it up in some kind of coherent way was difficult- most of the time she didn't fully understand it herself. And now here was _Han_, _Han Solo_ of all people, expecting her to tell him what was going on. Luke she could've tried, maybe, but despite his contrary actions, Han was still the one person she could never be around, never trust with anything important.

And there was no way he cared about what happened to her.

"You don't understand." She said quietly. "It's not important."

"Now, listen, Princess, that isn't-"

That was it. She felt her emotions erupt, and since it felt good to release them she did. In the best way she knew: lashing out at Han. "Why are you even here? It's not like anyone, much less _you_, cares what happens to me- you wouldn't care if I jumped-"

"Don't you dare." His voice was harsh, but he hadn't raised it as she'd expected him to. She was surprised to find that this quiet anger was somehow even worse. "People care about you. I care."

"No you don't! If people cared, they'd listen! They'd let me be human, let me feel, instead of having to be so… so _fine_, all the time!"

She'd gotten to her feet again before she even became aware of it, but even as her mind acknowledged it Han was stood and grabbed her shoulders. He shook her. "Leia! Listen to me, for gods' sake!"

There was a moment of unexpected silence as his shout echoed in her ears. Then her vision blurred, sobs rose in her throat, and she felt her knees give way. She hit the durasteel with a jarring clatter, but barely heard it over her own distress.

"Sweetheart…" Han dropped next to her, the pressure of his hand coming to rest on her back.

She tried to ignore the comforting warmth it generated. "Don't call me that!" she screamed through tears. "Leave me alone!"

The hand didn't move. "Shh," he murmured gently. "It's okay. Shh."

She felt everything escaping. Images of her father, her mother, all the friends and family she'd left behind, appeared in her mind's eye as she cried; words and emotions whirled by faster than she could grab them. She was losing it. But it felt good.

She didn't know how long she crouched there, bent almost double and shouting incoherently into the night, but eventually the tears dried up. Throat hoarse from screaming, Leia took a couple of shuddering breaths. Feeling slightly embarrassed, as Han was still knelt next to her, she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

Han's hand slipped down to rest between them- she found her eyes inexplicably fixed on it, a solid anchor in a galaxy that felt increasingly like it was slipping away from her.

"Come on," Han said finally. "It's cold. We should go in."

She drew her knees up to her chest. "Just leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that, sweetheart." He told her quietly. He wasn't leaving her out here by herself. Not after what she'd almost done tonight… he let out a soft sigh as he took in the fragile figure curled up beside him. None of this made any sense to him, especially the fact that she wasn't acting like herself. At all.

"Don't make me carry you inside."

Leia didn't move.

Han shook his head and edged closer so he could place an arm across her shoulders. The other he slipped through the V her legs made, enabling him to lift her up as he stood.

"Han…"

"Hey, I warned you," he reminded her, a smile brushing his features.

She shook her head a little and pressed her face into his shoulder. Something twinged inside his chest and he found himself cradling her closer, his body shielding her from the wind. Now he was forced to decide what to do. He couldn't just leave her in her room- there was no guarantee she'd be there in the morning. And taking her to the medical wing was out of the question…

Of course. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

It took Leia a few minutes to realise they'd changed course. "My room's back there," she informed him as he entered the ninth floor turbolift.

He pressed the button for the ground floor. "Maybe we're not going to your room."

That was apparently good enough for her, and immediately the car fell silent again. Han belatedly realised that he could barely feel Leia in his arms- she weighed next to nothing. Her body was tiny, anyway, but he was becoming increasingly aware of her ribs sticking into his arm. Her pale, ashen skin, not able to be considered healthy, was even more washed out under the turbolift's lights. Had he been blind to this before? How had this happened in front of everyone's noses?

Maybe Leia was right. Maybe people who prentended to care were pushing her too hard, too quickly.

He silenced those thoughts instantly. After all, _he _cared. And he'd missed it, too.

The doors slid open even as another thought rose in the back of his mind- _since when have you cared about her?_

He left it unanswered.

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><p>"Chewie?" Han strode up the landing ramp, still carrying Leia. It was late, almost midnight, but he hoped the Wookiee was till awake.<p>

At least the late hour had meant there wasn't anyone to notice him on the way over from the hotel. The hangar was only a couple of blocks away, but Han had half expected someone to stop him and ask what he was doing with a well-known Princess/ex-senator half asleep in his arms.

He wouldn't have had an answer for them.

"Chewie?"

"Where are we?" a soft voice sounded from his shoulder.

"The _Falcon_. You're staying here tonight." he replied, ducking into the crew quarters. There were three bunks, arranged against the walls- Chewie was sitting on the furthest one, tinkering with some machinery. He raised his head and barked an inquiry at Han.

"It's okay," Han nodded, "I'll put her in mine."

"I'm not sleeping with-" her old indignation made him smile a little.

"Relax. I'll bunk in the crew quarters."

His own room was just round the corner, and not much bigger than the cockpit; the bunk took up the far wall, but there was room for a little storage unit with a lamp and chrono. However sparse, Han had come to rely on this tiny room almost as much as he did the ship itself. And now the relative lack of contents was a good thing: there was nothing a suicidal young woman could use to hurt herself.

That was what he hoped, anyway.

He laid Leia on the bunk and straightened up. Leia's eyes were on the ceiling above him, but appeared to be looking right through it.

"I'm going to lock the door. Knock if you want anything."

She didn't reply.

He managed to contain a sigh of exasperation and turned to leave.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Han spun back around. Leia was watching him now, her eyes steady and unwavering.

"Yes," he said finally. "And one day you're going to thank me for it."

She held his gaze for a few moments, then looked away again. He took that to mean the conversation was over.

"Goodnight, Leia," he said softly.

For a second he didn't think she was going to reply. Then her quiet voice came from behind him. "Goodnight."

His feet paused by the cabin's threshold as he felt the constriction in his chest again. Then he keyed the door shut and took a deep breath, wondering whether he'd done the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad you enjoyed reading. Sorry this chapter's a bit later than promised, I've been really busy this week!

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><p><em>Maybe I'm crazy, yeah, a little naive,<em>  
><em> But the light at the end is brighter than it used to be<em>  
><em> Got a long way to go but I know I believe<em>  
><em> That the light at the end is brighter than it used to be<em>

_-Patent Pending, Brighter_

Leia was still half asleep when the door hummed open, abruptly jolting her fully awake. She'd slept surprisingly well, and had wanted to savour the feeling of waking up peacefully rather than in a cold sweat, fear clenching her heart. In fact, for the first time in months, she couldn't remember having a single nightmare.

But now that had been broken by the door, which her eyes fell on just in time to see Han Solo enter. Everything came crashing down around her again and she felt her precious control slipping away… but, in the same instant, felt her heart skip a couple of beats as well. She prepared herself for some sarcastic comment, a wry remark about her hair, or her clothes maybe…

"Did I wake you?"

The soft question made her momentarily stumble over her words as she tried to get out an answer. "No. It's… no, you didn't."

"I, uh, made some breakfast."

Her brain was rapidly catching up with everything that had happened last night, so his apparent sympathy was beginning to make sense. But with the memories came the guilt, the sorrow, the pain of it all...

"I'm not hungry," she turned away.

Han didn't say anything for a moment. "I haven't seen you eat for two days."

He wasn't wrong. And that, combined with his gentle, surprising, completely un-Han-like tones, suddenly made tears spring up in her eyes. She angrily blinked them away. "I'm just not hungry."

"If I asked you to, would you eat something?" He took a step forward, and still the voice was so calm and caring that she felt the inexplicable urge to run into his arms.

As it was, she just shrugged a little. "I could try." It would make him go away, after all.

With a nod, he left the cabin, the door sliding shut after him. She momentarily considered just locking the door and staying here for as long as was humanly possible, but then it occurred to her that this was _Han's _cabin, and this was Han's bed.

She rolled out of the bunk, feeling her cheeks flush. New plan: get out of here as quickly as possible.

Not that they'd be missing her back at the hotel, anyway.

In a few minutes, she emerged from the cabin. She'd given up trying to fix her hair and had left it loose over her shoulders, but had managed to freshen up her face a bit and now at least felt almost awake.

The _Falcon_'s galley was easy enough to find, although Leia had never been there before- she was used to the ship by now and knew her way around it fairly well. She'd never admit it to Han, but she was actually beginning to like the old freighter.

Han turned as she entered the small space, momentarily shocked at her appearance. He didn't know why he'd never seen her with her hair down- she looked so young. With a start, he realised he was staring and averted his eyes.

Leia took a seat at the tiny fold-out table, searching for words to break the awkward silence and drawing a blank each time. After a few moments, Han placed a mug of caf and a bowl of some kind of grain in front of her. Then he took a seat across the table, nursing his own mug and gazing into it so intently he seemed to be watching for something to spring out.

While he was distracted, Leia tentatively tried a mouthful of food. It wasn't bad.

"Hey, I-" Han seemed to regret speaking the moment the words were out of his mouth. "I just want to know how you're doing."

"I'm... all right."

"Good."

Leia wasn't sure whether that required a response, so she just nodded a little and carried on eating. Han did the same, apparently relieved to be avoiding conversation.

She glanced up at him, noting the darkness under his eyes. There was a slightly tense, haggard look on his face, too, as if he was concentrating on something far away. Was it last night? Or was he just wondering about the hyperdrive?

"You don't look too good." She commented quietly.

He raised his eyes and gave her a quick once-over. "You don't look too great yourself."

It wasn't an insult, as it easily could've been, but sounded more like a gentle expression of concern. Before last night she would've assumed it was some kind of jibe, but now she wasn't so sure. However unlikely it seemed, maybe Han was capable of caring, after all.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she found herself having to look away again. "You hate me."

"No." The harsh tone of his voice surprised her. "I don't hate you. You annoy me sometimes-" at this she raised a sceptical eyebrow, and he conceded. "Okay, most of the time, but I don't _hate_ you."

He paused momentarily, rubbing his neck the way he did when he was embarrassed. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, but, equally, he seemed desperate to say something. Finally, he set his mug down and raised his eyes to meet hers. The intensity in his gaze made her self-aware and awkward, but she found it impossible to look away. Now that she noticed, his eyes were actually quite beautiful- a unique combination of green and brown, flickering in the light.

"I was worried about you last night. And if _I _was worried, you've gotta figure someone else would be too, right?" He bit his lip so tightly it turned white. His crooked scar stood out against his chin. "I just don't understand why you... why you wouldn't..."

"I tried, once. I went to the medics. And they gave me some medication that was meant to help, but it just made the nightmares worse. After that I think I just reasoned nothing could help. And you know that if I told people it would be across the base in days..." She'd never really thought about it before, getting support. There didn't seem much point.

"Hey, Leia, I..." Han's hand had returned to his neck. "You know I'm here? You know you can come to me if... I don't know, if you wanna talk about anything."

Truthfully, Han was about the least likely person she would've come to. But now, after all this, she almost felt like she could.

"Even if we argue? Because we will, you know." She reminded him.

He shrugged. "Look, I'd rather you come talk to me than... well, you know." With that, he managed a small grin. "I'll be honest, sweetheart, you freaked me out last night."

Unsure what that meant, exactly, she acknowledged him with a nod. Then another silence descended, and she once again became suddenly aware of herself. And him. Together, alone, in the _Falcon_... Hurriedly, she got to her feet.

"I should go."

"Um..." He didn't look particularly happy about it, but whatever was weighing on his mind was obviously too difficult to put into words. "Yeah. I guess."

Leia wondered whether _she _should say something- maybe apologise for last night, or thank him- but Han's silence was rubbing off. They'd already broken several of their unspoken rules, among them never having an honest conversation or showing any emotion for each other aside from annoyance or disinterest, and she didn't want to push her luck.

So she left without another word, inwardly kicking herself for not doing so the moment she'd woken up. The landing ramp was down, but that was hardly surprising; Chewie was probably working on some dysfunctional part of the ship already.

She probably walked down the ramp more forcefully than she'd meant to, because the sound of her boots clanging on the durasteel echoed around the hangar. Her mind was already trying to come up with excuses for being out of contact last night, most of which ideally didn't involve Han Solo coming to rescue her from the top of a building. What if someone had seen them? How was she meant to explain _that_, when even she didn't know what was going on?

She was halfway to the hangar's bay doors by now, counting the steps in her head to avoid her thoughts drifting off to other things. What had he meant, anyway? Han was the most infuriating, low down smuggler she'd ever met, not someone who cared about her.

_Well then why did he save you?_

She gritted her teeth and ignored that little niggling voice in the back of her head. She knew what she was doing.

"Leia!"

She turned on instinct, her mind so caught up in itself that it didn't acknowledge the owner of the voice. But there he was, crossing the floor in long, purposeful strides to catch up with her.

Momentarily, Leia considered walking off, forcing him to either run or forget about it, but some unknown impulse made her stay.

Han drew level with her in the next few moments. "I'm not sure what just happened back there."

"Neither am I." It came out cooler than she'd meant it to.

"Sorry." It was the first time she could remember him ever apologising to her. He gave her another sheepish grin. "You need to promise me."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll come and talk to me. And try not to beat yourself up."

"You're never going to let this go, are you?"

She'd expected a witty comeback, or at least some throw away comment about how he wasn't a push over, but he just looked at her intently. "It's important."

"Okay," she took his outstretched hand. "Deal."

He didn't shake, just squeezed her fingers tightly in his. Shivers ran up her arm, ones she tried desperately to ignore. Then he hesitantly pulled her to him and wrapped his free arm around her, just for a second. The embrace was just long enough for her to catch his scent- a combination of caf, machinery and aftershave- before he took a step back again.

"Don't ask." He told her in explanation. "I don't know myself."

Their hands were still entwined. Leia looked at them, at how big his hands were compared to hers', and felt the corners of her mouth drifting up. "Thanks anyway."

Her eyes drifted up gain in time to see a shadow of humour flit across his face. "You're welcome."

Suddenly, the moment was over, and he managed to pass off his grip on her fingers as a handshake, after all. He nodded to her, already backing away to the ship.

"I'll see you around, Princess."

She didn't notice the nickname. "See you around." She echoed, watching him leave.

Seemingly satisfied, he spun and headed back to the _Falcon_, his gait considerably lighter than it had been a few minutes before. Leia watched as he paced up the landing ramp and disappeared into the ship.

She glanced down at her hand, which still burned from his touch. The she clenched it loosely and returned her gaze to the ship, where Chewie was now welding something on the hull.

For the first time in months, Han Solo heard her laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, again. Hopefully I'll start getting these chapters up a bit quicker soon- plot bunny is evil. I don't own any of the lyrics I'm using in this work, just admire them!

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><p><em>The quiet scares me<em>

'_Cause it screams the truth_

_-P!nk, Sober_

0100 hours on _Home One_, the Rebel Alliance's main flagship.

The ship was deadly silent, since anyone with any sense was asleep, taking a welcome break from the pressures of keeping such a large ship hidden in the midst of being hunted by the Imperial navy.

Only a sparse skeleton crew were still awake, most of them currently watching a rerun of an old gravball final in the briefing room.

Han still didn't know what was so appealing about the game, but if it kept the techs busy enough not to notice him on _Home One_'s security cameras, then he couldn't complain. He never knew what the techs actually did all night; they were supposed to make occasional checks on the hangar bay on their rounds of the ship, but he never saw them.

Which he would've done, if they ever did their job. He was awake most nights, after all, to the point where early morning had become a natural extension of the day to him. Most nights he didn't even try to rest, just stayed awake until everyone else was asleep and then started work on whichever part of the ship that needed it.

This habit had been going on for so long that for the first time ever he was actually beginning to run out of things to fix.

The sensor jammers hadn't really needed repairing, but Han couldn't remember the last time he'd encoded and fine-tuned them. Most of the time he was busy with the more important parts of the ship, after all. He'd forgotten how detailed the jammers were; it had taken him most of last night to get them off the hull and adjusted to his liking.

Now he was back on the hull, reattaching the metal casing to the plates of durasteel. They were so marked with carbon scoring that he could see where the jammers had been from the clear patch they'd left.

Han swore under his breath as his shaking hands fumbled with the tools. At night the flagship's heating was turned off to preserve power, dropping the temperature of the hangar to only slightly above freezing. Despite that, he and Chewie refused the crew quarters offered to them- there was something comforting, and less permanent, about sleeping on their own ship.

The hydrospanner slipped from his fingers again, clanging loudly against the hull. It evoked a wince from Han as the noise echoed around the otherwise silent hangar.

"Han?"

The tentative voice was quiet, but still made him jump. Instinctively, he glanced up, half expecting the owner of the voice to be standing next to him on top of the ship. But of course they weren't. Han set the sensor package down and got to his feet to look down beyond the forward mandible of the _Falcon_.

A now-familiar pair of deep brown eyes was looking back.

Leia looked even smaller than usual from Han's vantage point, standing on the cold metal floor of the hangar with her head tilting way back to meet his eyes. Her hair was held back off her face, and it looked like she'd hurriedly pulled on her body warmer before coming out here.

Han realised he was staring. He half thought she was a vision emerging from his sleep-deprived brain, and blinked a few times to make the image disappear. She didn't move. Trying to regain his composure, he gave a nonchalant nod, as if meeting her here in the hangar bay at midnight was the most normal thing in the galaxy. "Princess."

"Mind if I come up?"

"Nope," inclining his head at the scaffolding next to her. "Knock yourself out."

He half expected her to need help getting up- the metal framework was designed for users of his height, not hers, after all- but in less than a minute she was up and crouched next to him on the top of the ship.

"What are you working on?"

She'd only tied her hair back loosely, and as she bent over it began falling out of the band. Han tried to ignore the sudden impulse to tuck it back behind her ear and managed to keep his hands occupied with the hydrospanner. "Sensor jammers. Do you want to help?"

He didn't really expect her to know anything about machinery, since he doubted the Royal Palace at Alderaan ever taught its princesses how to fix a ship, but he knew by now not to make any assumptions about Leia. He'd been proven wrong too many times.

"I don't know how useful I'd be, but I've seen landspeeder jammers before." She offered.

Han shook his head. "Not quite the same. But they're not too difficult."

He shifted over so she could see the jammer more clearly, a small metal package about the size of a datapad. Its wires were trailing over the hull, despite Han's efforts to keep them neat. Hopefully, he'd be able to remember which internal wire to connect them to. As he started to explain the workings of the jammers to Leia, she reached out and tapped the casing.

"Are these even legal?"

Han glanced down to where she'd indicated. A familiar Imperial insignia was half obscured by the wires.

He raised his eyes to catch her incredulous expression, and flashed her a sideways grin. "Probably not."

"Where did you get them from?"

"Hey, you don't expect me to tell you _that_ now, do you?" In reality, he couldn't remember. Probably Kessel- most of the _Falcon_'s Imperial spec modifications had come from there.

Leia rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. He briefly considered asking her why she was up this late, but then reconsidered. After all, she'd probably ask the same back, and he didn't quite know what answer to give.

She was a quick learner- within a few minutes, Han had taught her how to attach the loose wires and was confident with letting her work on some by herself. They didn't speak, but the silence wasn't awkward. In fact Han was struck by how similar it was to the companionable silence that often occurred between him and Chewie.

It certainly helped having another pair of hands, and soon they'd managed to do a much better job of it than he'd thought they would. Leia straightened and wiped her palms on the thighs of her jumpsuit.

"Sorry about earlier."

Oh, right. He'd almost completely forgotten about their argument this morning, though now it came back to him. It wasn't about anything in particular- as usual, they'd just gone for each other's' throats for no reason.

"Hey, it was _my _fault." He replied, with mock indignation.

She laughed at his tone, a noise that made an uncontrollable grin break out on his face. "Okay."

They'd never resolved an argument as easily as that before. Normally it took days to fix whatever had broken between them, and then they'd probably break it again within an hour. But maybe being together like this- without real explanation, at some unknown hour of the morning- was the solution.

Han almost felt as if normal rules didn't apply, which was a strange and slightly unwelcome sensation. It left him uncertain as to what to say; Leia wasn't reacting how she normally did, as she should've done, and it had thrown him.

"You know, it's not exactly normal to be repairing your ship in the middle of the night." Leia said quietly.

It wasn't a question, but it might as well have been. Deliberately, Han began packing away the tools while he considered how to reply. He had just decided on a non-committal reply, something along the lines of it making his planned departure come quicker, when Leia's body shuddered in an uncontrollable movement.

His words came unbidden. "It's warmer in the ship."

Leia's eyes tried and failed to take on an expression of surprise. It was obvious that she'd hoped for this invitation from the start. "So the heaters work?"

He chuckled. "Okay, I lied. It's probably warmer out here."

Their eyes met and he saw her lips quirk in a gentle smile. "You wanna bet?"

* * *

><p>"For the record, I <em>told<em> you it would be freezing in here." Han whispered as they passed by Chewie's cabin. He was fast asleep, as usual.

Leia didn't seem to care about the wager. She was still shivering, and Han longed to wrap a blanket or something around her to keep the cold air at bay. He reminded himself that she wasn't nearly as helpless as he thought, and that if anyone would be wrapping a blanket around her it would be with her consent, no questions.

But that didn't make the urge go away.

"It's not colder than outside." Leia replied, that half-grin still teasing him. Her hair was definitely falling out, now, but she either didn't care or hadn't noticed.

"That's 'cause..." Han trailed off, an idea springing to his mind. He suddenly grabbed Leia's wrist and pulled her down the corridor. "Come on."

"Where are we-" Her voice rose and Han touched his finger to his lips.

"Ah, ah, ah," he admonished with a shake of his head. "Chewie's sleeping."

"You are impossible." Leia sounded exasperated as he continued to lead her through the ship. But she spoke in a whisper.

He was so used to those kinds of comments by now that it didn't affect him. He wished he could say the same for her pulse, which he could feel against his fingers as he gripped her wrist. It was doing something strange to his own heartbeat- and he desperately hoped she couldn't tell.

They rounded a bulkhead and Leia paused. "What?"

They were in the _Falcon_'s main maintenance bay, which housed the hyperdrive and the exhaust units- the far wall was thrumming softly as energy from the reactor core ran through it. Han always kept the engine on standby, never fully shut down, in case he needed to make a quick exit. It probably used up power, but Han's paranoia level was never relaxed enough to completely shut the ship down- he couldn't remember the last time he'd done it, and highly doubted the ship would restart if he did so.

Han crossed the compartment and placed his palm on the bulkhead. It was as he'd thought- it was radiating heat, making warmth seep through into the surroundings. Leia joined him and cautiously touched the panels. Her fingers were pale from the cold, but she smiled once her skin came into contact with the warm durasteel.

"You know this means I win." She glanced up at him, and he just shrugged.

"It's not the biggest bet I've ever lost," he replied. "Sit down. I'll go make some caf."

She did so, shrugging off her body warmer as she slid to the ground. Han could feel the heat from the panels penetrating his boots, and couldn't wait to join her on the warm floor. Why he'd never thought of this before, he didn't know- he began wondering how easy it would be to move his bunk in here, and then remembered it was attached to the wall in his cabin. Speaking of which...

"I can get some blankets, too." He offered. "Make it a little party."

A slightly incredulous expression came onto Leia's face, but when she realised he wasn't suggesting anything untoward- not yet, anyway- she nodded. "Sure, why not?"

So, somehow, five minutes later, Han found himself curled up on the floor of the maintenance bay, cushions and sheets lying around him and Leia sitting at his side. He hadn't bothered to make caf, but had found a bottle of inexpensive wine in the galley and had brought that instead.

Leia nursed the bottle currently, taking a sip with half-closed eyes and then exhaling. Her breath smelt sweet as it danced across Han's cheek. Lowering the bottle, she held it out to him in a silent offering. He waved her off.

"I'm all right." He looked at her critically. "You should go easy with that stuff."

"I can handle it." It should've sounded light, but her tone suggested something darker behind her words. It occurred to him that maybe she was more used to alcohol than he'd thought.

Which made him think of that night, the night neither had mentioned directly, when he'd almost lost her completely. The thought made him feel weak again. If he'd been just half a minute later he'd have been too late... it didn't bear thinking about.

"Hey, are you... you're okay?"

It wasn't the most self-explanatory question, but she seemed to understand anyway. Maybe she'd been expecting it. "Yes. I mean, I'm not great, but I just couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about what that man said."

Of course. They'd met with a group of Alderaanian refugees this morning, and Leia hadn't had the best reception. Han had been firmly convinced that he leader of the group was crazy- he'd started ranting that Leia didn't deserve to be here, that she deserved to die _herself_ for everything she'd done to Alderaan, and Han had expected Leia to start yelling back. But she hadn't- she'd just stood there and let him spout those lies at her.

It was one of the reasons they'd ended up arguing earlier.

"I told you, you should've let me deal with him." The anger the man's words brought to him had shocked Han, but he was certain that whoever accused Leia of killing her planet- Alderaanian or not- deserved someone to punch his face in. They definitely didn't deserve an audience with her.

"I don't know why he annoyed you so much." Leia managed a small grin, but Han could tell her mind was returning to earlier.

"It was the just way he lied..." Han tried to wave it off, adding silently _And the way you just stood there and let him._

Leia bit her lip and said quietly, "Han, he wasn't lying."

His eyes shot up, her words shocking him. "Hey, it wasn't you that fired that turbolazer." He reminded her.

A short, humourless laugh escaped her lips. "You'd be surprised."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Just a quick thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I'm planning on doing about three more chapters, hopefully in as many weeks.

* * *

><p><em>I don't wanna think about you<em>

_Think about me_

_Don't wanna figure this out_

_I don't wanna think about you_

_-Simple Plan, Don't Wanna Think About You_

A short, humourless laugh escaped her lips. "You'd be surprised."

He'd heard of survivor's guilt, and probably suffered from it a little himself, but he'd never thought it would get so far as to create false memories. Did Leia seriously believe that she was responsible?

"Oh come on. I don't know who gave that order, probably Vader-"

He was cut off by Leia's soft, yet certain, tone. "It was Tarkin."

"How do you-" a cold feeling of dread crept into Han's stomach. "Wait, you were there?"

Leia confirmed it. "I watched."

He knew she'd been on the Death Star at the time of Alderaan's destruction, but he'd never considered the idea that she'd been present as it was blown apart. He'd always assumed they told her afterwards to try and break her. But they'd made her watch...

New anger boiled in him, but this time not at the Alderaanian survivor- at the Empire, and Vader, and the way they treated everyone around them like dirt. And to think he'd been in the Academy.

"I kriffing hate them." He said unexpectedly, breaking the stunned silence he'd found himself in.

"Who?"

"You know. Them." He waved his hand in a vague gesture, and grabbed the wine bottle from the floor.

As Leia realised what he was talking about, he took a sip and savoured the harsh burning sensation down his throat. She looked up at him and their eyes met for a long beat, during which Han felt the urge to tuck her hair back becoming irrepressible.

He distracted himself by tipping the bottle back again, trying to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him as he drank.

"You should go easy on that stuff," Leia said softly, quoting his earlier words.

Unable to stop his lips quirking, he lowered the bottle and shook it. They could both hear the last remnants of the wine sloshing around, but only Han could feel how light the bottle had become.

"Maybe I have my own memories to forget."

"Yeah?" Leia seemed to finally become aware of her unravelling hair. She tucked it behind her ear and shifted slightly closer. "Like what?"

Where was he meant to begin? Often he tried not to dwell on his past, since the disappointment and pain there was too much to take. But recently his nightmares- he'd had them constantly since Dewlanna was killed, not that he'd tell anyone- had gotten much worse, and hadn't just been distorted memories. They'd been... well, Luke had made a few appearances, and so had Chewie, but Leia had, too.

He'd definitely never admit to anyone, much less himself, that those were the ones he hated the most.

"It's nothing," he shrugged. "Stuff just gets too much sometimes."

"I know."

They fell silent again, and Leia awkwardly cleared her throat. "You know, if you ever want to talk..."

Han acknowledged her with a nod. He understood- it was her way of returning his favour. Though he was pretty sure she hadn't quite used it up yet. And now he was beginning to understand why. After all, Chewie was always saying how similar they were; maybe she was struggling to open up as much as he was.

"Do you know what time it is?" Leia moved again, but this time away from him. Maybe she was becoming aware of how close they were.

"Nope," he stretched and realised, with a flash of surprise, that he was beginning to feel tired. "You're fine staying if you want to."

Was it his imagination, or did her cheeks redden, just a little? "Thanks, but I think I've overstayed my welcome." She replied, avoiding his eyes.

"If you're sure," he tried to pretend he didn't mind. It wasn't like there was anything going on between them- why should he care if she went back to her quarters?

He didn't want to consider that it wasn't so much the romantic attraction that he wanted, but her comfort. Recently he noticed that just being around Leia relaxed him, even if it did mean that they argued. Maybe if she was here tonight the nightmares wouldn't be so bad.

Leia seemed to be anything but certain, as she remained seated on the still-warm deck plates with her dark eyes fixed on him. Knowing her, she could probably detect his nerves and worry.

"Are you going to try and fix something else now?" she prompted gently. "Is that what you do at night, work the thoughts away?"

She was perfectly right, as usual. It should annoy him, really, how often she managed to do that- sometimes it did- but he couldn't really complain. She had been a senator, it was almost a given.

"Something like that." He didn't trust himself to say anything else. If he started he was worried that he may not be able to stop.

A flash of annoyance seemed to pass across Leia's face, but then her expression seemed to soften a little. "All right. But get some sleep tonight."

Was that meant to remind him of the cargo run tomorrow? He guessed it was. It was just as well- he'd almost forgotten about it. And it wouldn't do any good to be half asleep while flying.

"I'll sleep if you do." He told her.

"I'll comm you when I get back." Leia removed her comlink from her pocket and gave it a little wave as if to prove her point.

"Fine," He nodded fractionally, then got to his feet with a low groan of pain. "My head's killing me."

As Leia stood, her lips quirked up slightly. "That's what happens when you don't sleep."

He was about to ask how she could possibly know, and then remembered that she had her own reasons for being out here in the middle of the night. Something about that made him laugh.

"We're both so messed up." He gave a lopsided grin and felt his heart skip a little when Leia mirrored it.

"And insensitive, apparently."

He rolled his eyes, worried that unless he moved them away from her he soon couldn't be accountable for his actions. The alcohol definitely wasn't helping.

"Get out of here," he joked lightly once he felt grounded enough. Still averting his eyes, he nudged her towards the still-open boarding ramp and waited for her to descend.

He was surprised she was still able to walk straight. Maybe she was one of these people who only felt drunk the morning after.

"Be there when I comm you." Leia warned him.

"I will," he promised. "What, you think I'd pass out or something?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

In reply, he merely shot her another grin. "Get going."

For a moment she seemed to be considering an answer, but then she just smiled, almost to herself. Without another word, Leia turned and headed back towards the hangar door. Han watched her go.

For a minute or two he allowed his thoughts to drift away, just allowed himself to stand there and feel nothing but the cool air against his chest and the metal beneath his fingers. Eventually, though, the painful thoughts seeped back into his mind.

No matter how much he tried, no matter how happy he felt at any given moment... it was always there again, waiting to hit him.

Han sighed a little and pressed his forehead against the ramp's support strut. Its chill was soothing against his pounding temples. He wasn't aware of how long he'd been standing there, not until a buzz sounded against his hip.

Abruptly, his head snapped up and hit the Falcon's hull above him. Muttering a few choice words under his breath, Han recovered his comlink from its position on his belt.

"Hey."

"You okay?" Leia's voice was slightly garbled by the comlink, but she sounded concerned.

"Sure," he forced his voice to take a lighter tone. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm going to sleep," she told him. "Are you?"

Han shrugged, even though she couldn't see him. "I guess."

For a moment, there was no reply, just the static caused by the ship's systems. Then he heard her quietly say, "Han, I'm worried about you."

"Don't be." He felt tears prick his eyes and swiped them away. Gods, Solo, get a grip. "I'm fine."

"Han-"

"Go on, Princess, get to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." He didn't wait for her reply before he keyed off the comlink and returned it to his hip.

He hesitated a moment at the top of the ramp, then shook his head. Sleep was impossible. It wasn't like he needed it, anyway.

And that belly cannon needed adjusting.

Without further thought, he descended the boarding ramp and let it rise back into place. Then he grabbed his tool kit and headed under the ship, mind full of schematics and calculations.

The night was still young.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Just to say, this chapter turned out kind of darker than I'd imagined. Sorry about that.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry for everything, oh everything I've done<br>From the second that I was born  
>It seems I had a loaded gun<br>And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through  
>Everything I loved<br>Oh I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single  
>Thing that I loved<em>

_-Imagine Dragons, Shots_

Leia didn't know which backwater planet they were currently situated on, and frankly didn't care. As long as it was small, out of the way, and didn't draw any attention to itself, it was deemed safe enough for the Rebellion to try and trade on, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Han and Chewie had taken some supplies- Leia didn't particularly care what _they_ were, either- to the city a few kilometres away, in order to exchange them for machinery, food or information the Alliance could use.

The cargo runs were pretty dangerous, since the Empire were beginning to consider the Alliance a real threat. Things had gotten a lot more difficult. Han, however, who seemed suspiciously good at sneaking in under a radar and finding the right kind of traders, often didn't think twice about the risks. That was why he seemed a lot more willing to head out on the cargo runs than he did anything else.

That and the fact that the Alliance paid him for it.

They'd been gone a while, and Leia had finished prepping the run down shuttle for takeoff half an hour ago. It had been decided that they couldn't take the _Falcon_, in case someone recognized it, so they'd brought a decrepit, unremarkable shuttle from the Clone Wars era instead. Han was constantly complaining about it, though Leia doubted the _Falcon_ was much better.

"Leia?"

She straightened in the navigator's chair and turned to find Luke standing in the doorway to the cockpit.

"Yes?"

"What's up with Han?"

It was the same question she'd been asking herself since boarding the shuttle that morning. Han had been even more sullen and bad-tempered than usual, barely talking to anyone all day, and even Chewie hadn't been able to get him out of it.

Leia had a suspicion it was partly her fault.

"Why should I know?" she sighed, returning her gaze to the dusty plains outside. "He never talks to me."

"Well, you seem to be getting on a bit better." Luke suggested, slightly more resentfully than he needed to, as he took a seat in the seat opposite her.

Not for the first time, Leia considered telling him what was going on between her and Han- Luke seemed to be jealous of it, and she desperately wanted to reassure him nothing was going on between them. Plus, Luke was a lot less likely to completely blank her for days at a time. It was all well and good for Han to say that she could talk to him whenever, but in practise it was different.

She half wished he would speak to her, just to make sure _he_ was okay. She knew he hadn't slept much, if at all, last night, and he was worrying her. No. He was... annoying her.

Gods, she wasn't _worried_ about him.

"It's not..." _like that_, she finished in her head, but she stopped before she could finish. It wouldn't be fair to explain it to Luke. "I don't know."

"Is it to do with his nightmares?"

"Huh?" Leia's head snapped round to face him. "What do you mean?"

Luke shifted in his chair, avoiding her eyes. "Well, when we were in hyperspace I came up here and Han was asleep... he was crying out, saying stuff."

Nightmares. That explained a bit. Her own were bad, often so bad that she avoided sleep just to stay away from them, so it wasn't impossible for him to feel the same. What he could have nightmares _about_, though, was beyond her.

"I didn't know." She told Luke quietly.

"Me neither," Luke seemed like he wanted to say more for a second, but then stopped himself at the last moment. Instead he just got to his feet and made to leave, still looking away from her. "I... I'd better go and check the coolant levels."

With that, he disappeared into the darkness of the ship's main hold. Leia watched him go, Han's words from last night returning to her. _We're both so messed up_.

She began to wonder whether they were the only ones.

* * *

><p>Summoning all the willpower she could, Leia took a step into the cockpit. Chewie turned immediately, barking in greeting. He sounded happy, but Leia knew he was worried about Han- the Wookiee glanced at his friend to gauge his reaction, but Han made no sign of acknowledging Leia's presence.<p>

So much for the easy way.

"Han, I need to talk to you."

Slowly, he twisted his head back to look at her, pulling his eyes away from the mottled backdrop of hyperspace. "Your Highness."

The nickname made her anger spike in the same way it always did, but this time there was another feeling that accompanied it. Almost... disappointment? After what she'd told him, what he'd almost told her, she'd assumed they were past the nickname stage.

Then again, she'd been wrong before.

"I just need to speak to you."

"Go ahead."

Leia's eyes flicked nervously to Chewbacca, still watching them from the co-pilot's seat. He understood without her saying anything, getting to his feet and manoeuvring through the cockpit to the door.

"Hey!" Han called after him. "Where do you think you're going?"

Chewie gave a short reply, one that Han obviously didn't like, and went through the door, bending double as he did so. Han rolled his eyes and whispered something under his breath, seeming to forget Leia was there. Then he glanced up, all hints of teasing gone from his expression.

"I didn't go to sleep last night."

She hadn't, either, not for a few hours, but at least she'd tried. "You said you would."

"I promise things without thinking them through," Han shrugged, as if it wasn't important. "All smugglers do."

"So you're a smuggler again now?" Leia asked him, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

Han's steeled in reply. "Been a smuggler my whole life. I don't know what you're talking about."

He had a point, albeit one that Leia didn't want to concede. She'd always thought that maybe, after a few months with the Rebellion, Han would reconsider joining them against the Empire. Obviously another thing she'd gotten wrong.

"So you can still walk out at any point, then."

Han waved her off and swung back to face the readouts on the control board. "_That's _what you want to talk about?"

"It is now." It was true. She and Han had never had a proper conversation about when and if he expected to leave, but now seemed like a good time. She leaned against the door jamb and threw an irked glance at the back of his head.

"Look, can't you just leave me alone for a bit?"

She hadn't expected that. Han half sounded like he was pleading, as if he wanted to avoid the upcoming conflict, the one she'd known would happen since entering the cockpit. And even though she didn't understand it (and that she still felt worry at the back of her mind that she was _trying to ignore_), it annoyed her.

"Why are you being such a-"

Without warning, Han spun back around, finger raised in threat and eyes burning with anger of his own. "You know, you're not the only one who's got problems, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" She pushed herself off the door, thankful that he was still in his seat so, for once, she was actually taller than him. "If you weren't so uptight all the time, maybe people would actually listen to you!"

Han flinched- actually _flinched_- at her words, before squeezing his hands into fists and looking away. "I don't want to argue with you."

"Really?" Something else he'd never said before. "Why?"

"Because I'll say something I don't mean and then you'll..." He trailed off, already looking as if he'd said too much.

Leia realised what he meant. "You think I'd hurt myself because of you?" It should make her worried, but it didn't. Instead her anger continued to rise. "You think I care that much about what you say?"

"Why is that so hard for me to imagine?!" Han yelled back, unexpected emotion making his voice crack a little. "You were gonna kriffing kill yourself, and I thought maybe you trusted me now!" He got up, and then suddenly sat down again. "I can't walk out, I have to stay here."

It was a not-particularly-well veiled request for her to leave, one she chose to ignore. Han sighed in irritation. "Leia-"

"You're saying this is _my _fault?" She was quiet now, although she could still feel hot blood rushing through her veins. "That it's my fault for you being like this, because you came up onto the roof that night and-"

"No." Han raised a hand to cut her off. "That's not what I'm saying at all. I'm just... I'm confused, okay? There's a reason I'm like this, and it's not you, I'm not saying that..."

"What, then?"

His face went stony, impassive. Han drew his lips into a tight line and looked back at the readouts. "We're coming out of hyperspace soon. Go tell the kid."

"Han-"

"Just..." he clenched his fist again. "Just leave it, all right? Leave it."

Leia gritted her teeth in an attempt to stop an outburst. She was confused now, about him, and her anger, and the increasing feelings of guilt that were building up again within her. Why was Han so infuriatingly complex, when he wanted to be? On the surface, he was just another self-absorbed pilot with an inflated ego, but when you got down into it, into _him _... Leia preferred thinking that side of him didn't exist, since it was easier that way.

"Fine," she said quietly. "I understand."

She didn't give Han a chance to reply before she turned back and left the cockpit. She noted, with some annoyance, that her hands were shaking. Did he mean what he said? He'd said he didn't but... that doubt was all it took for the flood gates to open, and suddenly a wave of memories and pain hit her, feeling like a punch in the chest.

Han's silent judgement.

The Alderaanian survivor's harsh words.

The way people looked at her in the corridors, like they knew, like they understood.

And-

The real reason she hadn't slept last night.

Leia took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm her mind. It didn't help much; tears rose in her eyes and she had to lean into the bulkhead for support.

She felt it vibrate as the shuttle came out of hyperspace, and realised that in less than half an hour they'd be back on the surface. Which meant she'd have to talk to the survivors again, something she wasn't sure she could do.

She could do that, or... _no, stop, that's not the way out of this_...

The thought was still there. And as she heard Chewie and Luke making their way to the cockpit, something in her resolve crumbled.

And, somehow, she didn't think it could be rebuilt in less than half an hour.


	6. Chapter 6

_I've never lit a match,  
>with intent to start a fire,<br>but recently the flames  
>are getting out of control.<em>

_-All Time Low, Jasey Rae_

"_Kriff _it!" Han punched the bulkhead, savouring the wave of pain that it sparked in his knuckles. The clang of reverberating durasteel echoed through the shuttle.

"Uh... Han?"

He turned to see Luke hovering uncertainly in the doorway. Feeling his face flush slightly, Han cradled his hurt fist and acknowledged him.

"Kid."

"Look, I, uh..." Luke rubbed his neck, looking just as awkward as Han felt. "Do you know where Leia is?"

Just the mention of her name made Han want to smash his other fist into the wall. They'd landed maybe ten minutes ago, and he should probably have been helping Chewie and Luke offload, but his mind was still reeling from his confrontation with Leia.

"No," he finally answered shortly. "Why, isn't she back there with you?"

Luke shook his head. "I never saw her come out. I assumed she was with you."

Despite himself, Han felt a tiny tendril of fear seep into his heart. He hated himself for it- she wasn't his responsibility, and she could take care of herself, especially on an Alliance ship. But it was still there, creeping into his thoughts as he felt his own blood ooze through his fingers. She'd looked so helpless when she'd left the cockpit.

"She probably just wanted to get away from us." Han shrugged. He got to his feet, but then saw Luke's hesitant expression and stopped. "What?"

Luke gestured at Han's hands, which Han noted were now dripping blood onto the deck. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, kid. I'm kinda fed up of her Highness, that's all." Han forced Luke to step away from the doorway and stepped past.

"I think you should go to medical," the younger man called after him. "You might've broken your-"

"I'm _fine_, kid." Han managed a grin, though it felt forced. "I'm going to go check on Chewie. You look for your Princess."

* * *

><p>The Wookiee was not happy to see him. He and Luke had already finished unloading, and the crates now rested on the hangar floor, waiting to be collected. Han should have lent a hand, he knew that, but that wasn't the thing Chewie was annoyed about.<p>

"It's not like we don't argue normally," Han said when he was able to get a word in between Chewie's criticism. "I never hear you complaining then."

His co-pilot merely grunted in reply.

"_How _is it different?" Han slammed a frustrated fist into the crate he was sitting on, and gasped in sudden pain. Naturally, he'd used the same fist that was still bleeding and bruised from when he'd hit the bulkhead.

Chewie seemed to notice his injury for the first time and grumbled an enquiry.

"Okay, maybe I'm a little bothered by us arguing, too," Han conceded, beginning to wonder whether Luke had been right about going to medical. "And I _know. _I know I said I'd stop doing it..."

No, he wasn't going to think about the past anymore. He'd made himself promise that last night. He forced himself to block all of those thoughts from his mind, at the same time as telling himself that this wasn't a habit he really wanted to resort to.

"Luke hasn't seen her since we landed," Han told Chewie quietly, almost afraid to say it. That gnawing feeling of dread had gradually grown bigger, and now he was trying to blank all that out, too.

Chewbacca asked a question, one Han could only answer with a small nod. Damn it, if Chewie was worried, too...

But she was fine, wasn't she? She'd certainly seemed it- or normal, at least- back in the cockpit. All the same, Han felt a growing need to see her safe, even if it meant getting his head ripped off by her.

He stood. "I'm going to medical."

With Chewie's concerned gaze following him all the way, Han crossed the hangar and began to make his way towards the medical wing, holding his aching hand. First he'd deal with that, and then- even though he knew she'd be okay, she would obviously be okay- he would go and find Leia.

Just in case.

* * *

><p>It turned out he had fractured his finger. But even as the medical droid inserted the bone knitters and wrapped Han's knuckles in bacta, he hardly felt the pain. He'd broken bones before, and this was nothing new- it was only a hairline fracture, anyway.<p>

"I'll need to submit a report," the droid informed him once it had finished. "It's common procedure."

Han had only lightly mentioned the cause of his injury- not the real one, obviously- but he knew the Alliance's records would demand a more thorough explanation. One that he didn't really want to make up and didn't have the time for.

"Can I come back later?" he didn't wait for the droid's reply before slipping out of the treatment room.

An electronic shout sounded from behind, but Han kept going. The only thing stopping him from running was the fact that the corridor was full of patients and droids, most of them looking a little worse for wear. Apparently one of the other cargo runs' crews hadn't been so lucky.

Han had never really thought of it as dangerous, since running things into a system undetected had been his job for a long as he could remember, but he was beginning to realise why others thought it was. Luke, for instance, was reluctant to head out on them, and he'd faced Imperials more times than most people.

It made Han realise just how dedicated those same people were.

He finally got through the worst of the crowd, feeling a little guilty that he was here having his hand treated when there were people back there who were missing _arms_.

Han had only been here once before and couldn't really remember his way out from the side corridor he was in. The droids all looked busy, and he didn't exactly want to ask a patient how to get out, so he decided the next best thing would be to keep heading in the same direction.

"What?" A young human doctor surprised Han as she spoke loudly into her comlink by his side. She sounded shocked, a little worried. "I'll be there in a second."

The woman knelt down next to the Gotal she'd been treating and quickly told him she'd be back as soon as she could. Han watched her go, momentarily grasped with indecision, then decided to follow. If she was going to get another patient, they'd probably been brought in through the main entrance.

She was fast, moving with obvious urgency past the other people in the corridor. Han had to jog a little to keep her in view, and began to wonder if another cargo run shuttle had made it back. Whatever had happened to the new patients, it wasn't going to pretty.

The medic rounded a corner, and Han found himself in the main reception area of the medical wing. He grinned at the medic's back, nodding her silent thanks, and headed for the door.

He was almost knocked down by another group of medics rushing a hoverstretcher in through the door. One muttered a quick sorry to him, but Han didn't hear. He was standing still in the same place, unable to move his eyes from the stretcher.

And all he could think was _no, no, no, no..._

"Hey," he reached out to the medic that had just passed him. "Wait-"

"Pal, can't you see we're busy?" The medic snapped before heading off down the corridor.

Han tried to calm his breathing, knowing that he couldn't follow but at the same time feeling the need to stop everyone for just a second and ask what he needed to. But no one was going to tell him anything, even if they could. Nobody in the Alliance really trusted him.

"Solo."

Han glanced up. General Riekaan, one of the few people Han actually respected in this place, stood in front of him, a slightly sympathetic look on his face. Han didn't know how, but he could tell Riekaan could tell him what he needed to know.

"Let's go outside for a minute," the general lead him outside, into the relatively deserted corridor.

Han didn't know what to ask, or how to ask it. All he could manage was a quiet, "What...?"

"I found her unconscious on the floor of her quarters," Riekaan answered, the worry obvious in his eyes. "I...I think she may've had an accident."

But Han could tell that Riekaan didn't believe that, and neither did he. "She was fine on the shuttle-" And then he had to stop, because that wasn't true, was it? Leia _hadn't _been fine.

And now she was lying unconscious in the medical bay.

The rhythm of _no_ continued in the back of his mind. Why would she do that? How could she do that?

(_Was it his fault?_)

"I need to see her..." Han turned back to the medical bay, only stopped by the older man's hand on his shoulder.

"Let the medics do their job, Solo," he said softly. "We'll be able to see her soon."

Han forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to ignore the tears he could feel trying to break through. Riekaan was right- he couldn't do anything right now, and it was best to wait until she was better, anyway.

_But what if she never gets better?_

"Solo, trust me." The general snapped Han out of his thoughts with a firm shake on his shoulder. "I'll ask the medics to update me when they can, and then I'll comm you when she can have visitors."

"Okay." Han wiped away the tears and nodded. "I... thanks, general."

"You're welcome. And Han?"

His eyes rose at the use of his first name.

"Get some rest. You look like hell."

It was easier to say than do.

First, Han found Luke and told him the news. The kid was distraught- so much so that Han didn't want to tell him what he suspected- but had understood that nothing could be done. Han had left him with some of the Rouges in the mess and carried on to the hangar.

He muttered a quick explanation to Chewie, then grabbed his tools and proceeded to systematically take apart and rebuild as many pieces of machinery as he could. Chewie, to his credit, seemed to understand, and only spoke to him a couple of times throughout the day. By nightfall, there was still no call from Riekaan, but Han couldn't sleep.

He spent most of the night curled up in the _Falcon_'s maintenance bay, forcing himself to stay awake as he cradled a broken repulsor coil in his lap and slowly forgot what exactly it was he was trying to do.

It was nearly a full day after Han had returned from the medical bay that the comm finally beeped. Chewie went to look for Han and found him, asleep only from exhaustion, in the same place as he'd spent most of the night.

The Wookiee shook his friend awake, slightly unwilling to do so but knowing Han wouldn't want it any other way.

"Did he comm?" Han asked the moment he was awake.

Chewie growled in reply, handing him the comlink.

"What, _now_?" Han stumbled to his feet and answered the comlink. "General?"

"_Did I wake you_?"

Glancing at the chrono, Han realised it was at least four hours into the ship's day cycle. Great. Who knew how much time he'd lost?

"No," he replied to Riekaan. "How is she?"

He could hear the poorly-veiled relief in the others' voice. "_She woke up about an hour ago. Apparently she's alert, and they don't think there's going to be any long term damage_."

Han's knees suddenly felt weak with his own relief. He actively forced his hands to stop shaking, and spoke into the comlink. "Thank them for me."

"_I already have_," Now Riekaan's voice was laced with humour. "_But you can say it yourself in a minute."_

Han paused. "What?"

"_They're letting us in to see her,_" Riekaan informed him,"_I've already spoken to her briefly, but I think she wants to see you._"

Forgetting the comlink, Han headed for the ramp. Chewie barked after him, but Han was already running. She was okay. She was alive.

And she wanted to talk to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Sorry this is a little late, life's been catching up a bit. I hope it was worth the wait- this is the last chapter, by the way, but I'm hoping to post other stuff soon. Thanks to everyone who's read (and hopefully enjoyed) it, your comments mean a lot! x

* * *

><p><em>Some people fight, some people fall<br>Others pretend they don't care at all  
>If you wanna fight I'll stand right beside you<br>The day that you fall I'll be right behind you_

_-__ Mcfly, Heart Never Lies_

It wasn't the first time Han had seen Leia asleep.

The first time had been on the _Falcon_, when Han was still half-convinced he was living in a dream, flying to Yavin 4 from the Death Star. He'd found her passed out in the navigator's chair, mouth slightly open and blissfully unaware of the galaxy. At the time, still not acknowledging his feelings about her, he'd left her alone and tried not to look.

But now, watching through the transparisteel of the medical room's window, he was able to take her in properly. Even lying there in the bed, which made her look even smaller than usual, she seemed untouchable. More delicate than usual, but somehow just as strong as she always looked. Like a fighter.

And gods, she was beautiful.

He almost didn't want to enter the room, afraid of waking her. Maybe he should just come back later, after Riekaan and Luke. But by some unknown force, the urge to check on her was too strong.

_Just for a few minutes_, he told himself as he opened the door. _Then I'll go_.

He shut the door behind him. When he turned back, his eyes were met by hers.

"Hey," Leia greeted weakly. She wasn't quite sitting up, but it was obvious that she was alert and had a little life in her. As he moved across to the bed, her eyes followed him.

Han took a seat on one of the chairs by the bedside, careful not to knock the bunk. "Hi. Sorry if I woke you."

Leia shook her head. "I was just resting."

"Are you... are you okay?" he was hesitant to meet her eyes, keeping them fixed on his hands, which he was wringing with increasing apprehension.

In reply, Leia gestured to the IV stand by the bed. "They're pumping anti toxins into me like anything, and I've got a banging headache... but yes, I'm okay."

"Good."

She didn't reply, and as Han didn't know what else to say, he remained quiet. For a long moment, the only noise in the room was the soft beeping of the IV and the sound of Han's hands grinding against each other.

"If you're wondering," she spoke into the silence. "I'll just say they're never giving me sleeping pills again."

Reading between the lines, he nodded slowly, although the comprehension made his next words stick in his throat. "Good."

It evoked a half smile from her. "Sorry."

"Me too," he replied with a little shrug. "I'm an idiot."

"I never expected to hear that from _you_," she teased gently.

"Well, it's the best excuse I've got."

"Mind if I use it? Because I think I'm a pretty big idiot, too." She gestured to the IV again. "And you had your reasons for how you were. I shouldn't have asked."

"No. No, you were worried. It's not your fault I'm not as trusting as you." He seemed to prepare himself. "You want to know what's up."

It wasn't a question, so Leia didn't feel obliged to answer. All the same, her silence was as much of a reply than any words.

"Well, it's just being on a ship with so many people again. It reminds me of when I was a kid- I used to... well, I guess work, on a trawler ship. And-" He shook his head. "There was only one person on that entire ship who cared about me. Well," he smirked a little. "I say 'person'. She was a Wookiee. Dewlanna."

"You'd rather not remember her," Leia prompted gently. "It hurts."

He nodded his thanks. "She saved my life... and they shot her."

"How old were you?"

"Nineteen," he raised his eyes, and saw that she had the same thoughts as he did. "I guess that's another thing we have in common."

Even if it was losing parents- or the closest thing to parents- when they were just out of childhood.

"There's a lot of things we have in common, isn't there?" Leia asked.

"More than I'd like to admit."

She laughed quietly. "My turn?"

It took him a moment to understand. "I thought it was just what that survivor said."

"Well, it was. But also..." she bit her lip. "It would've been my father's birthday yesterday."

Han was momentarily speechless. "I'm sorry. You should've said something."

"It's okay."

He could see her trying, but obviously failing, to smile through the pain. Her obvious heartache made him suddenly desperate to hold her in his arms and never let go.

Instead, he reached out and ran his thumb over her hairline, only gently in case it hurt her. He'd never touched her like this before, but it didn't feel wrong, and Leia didn't say anything either. Han wasn't really sure what that meant.

They stayed like that, in silence, for a while; at some point Leia shut her eyes, and Han found himself watching her lips. He tried to drive away the impulse to kiss them.

Because he wanted to. Gods, he wanted to.

"You're not always an idiot," Leia finally murmured. "Sometimes I think you may be the only person in the galaxy who understands me."

"If that's the case, I feel sorry for you." He quipped, trying to pull the conversation back to what he knew.

Her eyes opened and found his. "I don't know why."

He bit his lip, knowing that if he stood here any longer he wouldn't be able to resist that urge anymore. Straightening, he let his hand move from her forehead to rest on the pillow next to her cheek.

"Hey, look," he started. "That pact we made? On the _Falcon_?"

"The one we didn't keep to?" Leia asked with a wry smile.

"Yes," his lips quirked slightly sheepishly. "We've got to keep to it."

Colour returned to her cheeks as she gave another laugh. "Deal."

He knew he could leave it there- though at the same time he knew he couldn't, because if he did he was pretty sure this would happen again. So he didn't leave it there, but instead found himself talking again.

"This can't happen again, okay? It's already happened twice, and, well... I don't want there to be a third time," that had been the easy bit. "And I'm not just saying this because I don't want whatever happens to be my responsibility. It's 'cause... well, I..."

"You don't hate me anymore?" Leia suggested.

He hurried to defend himself. "Hey, I never hated you. You _annoyed me_, sure, but I never _hated_ you. No, what I was going to say was-" he shook his head a little. "I'm starting to feel like we're friends."

"Weren't we friends after Yavin?"

"No. Then we were more like allies. I think now we're friends. That is," he was finally able to look her in the eye. "If you're okay with that?"

Leia seemed amused that he thought she'd feel otherwise. "Of course."

He'd inadvertently leaned closer while he'd been speaking, and forced himself to stand up. "I'll be back soon, but I think the kid's pretty anxious to see you."

For once, Leia didn't look more eager for Luke's presence than his. "Okay. And Han? We're friends."

"Forever?"

There it was again- that beautiful half smile that Han could feel himself mirroring even now.

"Definitely."

He nodded to her once more, and then made himself leave. As he walked down the corridor, he didn't even try to wipe that lopsided grin off his face.

And he didn't try to ignore the warmth he felt swelling in his chest.

END


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